Almost Back from the Dead!

After leaving Brooklyn for good . . .

Photo by Dina Badamshina on Unsplash

Hello again everyone,

It’s been quite a long while since I’ve written, but I wanted to give you a brief catch up of where I’ve gone and what I’ve done these last months—and to tell you I’m (almost!) back to the land of the living. I’ve missed you all, especially seeing your faces for our Plot Doctor zoom writing group.

Since September I’ve:

• Completely uprooted myself from Brooklyn and my apartment of 20 years. I listed it, sold it, went through all of my worldly belongings including those saved from the households of both my parents (now gone) and both sets of grandparents (also gone). Culled my Brooklyn bookshelves which probably contained about 3,000 titles. And put everything into storage.

• Revised a novel (Her One Regret) in the middle of that move that will be out next fall (2025).

• Kept working with many of you privately on your own novels and memoirs through it all.

• Traveled back and forth several times to my apartment in Barcelona where I am (for now at least) living full time.

And to be totally and completely frank, I did not have another second to do anything else, like write here on this substack. The whole experience of moving every single thing I’ve ever owned and that I kept from all the members of my family who are no longer among us (and selling my apartment at the same time) was one of the most overwhelming (and not fun) things I’ve ever done! I didn’t think I’d get through it. I mean, everyone always says that moving is the worst, but it truly is. As I was doing this move (and having to rip up my wood floors before the apartment sale not once, but twice, because of two floods), I often thought of Emma Gannon’s writing on burnout, because I’ve never quite been so exhausted and unable to get other things done in my life. I mean, I was flat out. In a way, it was akin to the experience of grieving, where I was so completely consumed by the task of it, that all non-essentials got tossed to the side out of sheer necessity. There was no room in my brain or energy in my body to do another, single thing. I just had to give everything else up to get through it. I simply had to accept my limits—the limits that this gargantuan task imposed upon me.

I mean, I barely read a book. I did not write a single new thing for months. (Which for those of you who know me well, also know this is so unlike me that it’s like I turned into a different person for a while. And maybe I did.)

But I’m very happy to report: I’m on the other side and it’s the most massive relief.

My brain has room again, my brain has thoughts again—thoughts that are not about what to keep and what to toss and all the many places I had to change my address and the bins I needed to buy and where did the scissors go again??!! I have slept and slept these last few days (the move was barely one week ago so still recent). I cooked Thanksgiving in Barcelona for 14 people this Saturday and on this Monday morning, as the sun comes up on this glorious Catalan city where I am now sitting on my writing couch looking out, I have (some) energy again. I see possibilities, and I feel this sense that I have the time and space to do things I enjoy.

Like meeting with you all, who are still here reading. I am thankful if you’ve hung in and can forgive my complete and total silence for the last few months.

All this to say: I’m (almost) officially back! I have lots of plans that will start in January after the holidays. So stay tuned for new zoom groups and more opportunities to meet together (and with me, one-on-one!) if you are subscribers of The Plot Doctor. And the occasional article about writing and all that goes with it. Hooray!

Much love and gratitude for your patience—

Donna